Indah can sense the blood flowing through another’s body, specifically when someone’s pulse speeds up, such as when they are lying. Her prowess for sensing people’s dishonesty is a valued asset, but it can be disconcerting when someone I know is her target.
“Are you certain?” I ask. Ashwin would not go against his promise to relinquish his first rights to me.
“I don’t know what it means,” Indah says, quick to qualify her inkling. “I only know what I sensed.”
“But I’m not his intended.”
“Does he know that?”
“Yes . . .” After Indah’s persistent silence, I add, “I—I think so.”
My actions may have confused more than just me. In all fairness to Ashwin, I have acted erratically lately. I must dissolve this strange bond between us. Yet even as I resolve to speak with him, like a rabbit scurrying into a cozy burrow to escape winter, I want to bundle myself in his arms.
Datu Bulan strolls down the corridor, sporting a knee-length night tunic and oversized sandals. He carries a water cup, sipping from it every so often. “Blessed be Enki’s sea, ladies.” He does not let on if he finds it peculiar that we are seated in his corridor. Staring down into his cup, he says, “I once traded ten coconuts for an icicle frozen by a northern Aquifier. It melted by the time I brought it home, but that water was the freshest drink I ever had.”
I cast an inquisitive glance at Indah. Northern Aquifiers dwell in the arctic tundra and are rumored to manipulate ice and snow. How the datu came upon one or why he thought an icicle would last in the Southern Isles is beyond me.
He strides away, his sandals slapping against the floor, and then halts. “Indah, I do believe Pons is looking for you.”
She shifts to a kneeling position. “He’s returned?”
“He and the others.”
“What others?” I ask.
“Come on.” Indah stands and hoists me up. I hurry down the corridor with her.
“He’s in the prince’s chamber,” Datu Bulan calls after us.
Indah pulls ahead of me and reaches Ashwin’s open door first. Pons stands outside the threshold. They saw each other just yesterday, yet Indah clutches him close. Pons’s arms come around her slowly; he is taken aback by her open affection.
“You didn’t tell me you were leaving,” she says.
Rarely have I seen Indah fret over Pons. They are usually together, but they were not always. Pons was born in the sultanate, while Indah is a native Lestarian.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Pons says, then sees me from over Indah’s shoulder, and they shuffle out of the doorway.
Within the chamber, Ashwin is seated at a desk with piles of books before him. His hair and tunic are rumpled from a sleepless night. I am within his sight, but he pays me no heed. I lock my knees to stop myself from rushing to him and alleviating my inner cold at his side. He must be hurt that I ran after Deven last night instead of staying. Offending those I care about has become a terrible habit of mine. How will I make this right?
I am so preoccupied with Ashwin, I overlook the other people in the room.
A middle-aged woman drags me into her arms. “You’re even skinnier than I recall.”
“Mathura!” I hug her back, inhaling her jasmine scent. Her dark-brown hair is tied back in a braid, the customary style for an imperial courtesan. Her sari is travel worn, but she still appears stately.
Rohan sits off to the side on the terrace. Dishes of food are set before the young Galer, who is known for his big appetite, but Rohan slumps in his chair and touches none of it. His older sister, Opal, is not here. I do not see Brac either . . .
Deven races into the room, halts abruptly while surveying the chamber, and then flies at his mother. They embrace as tight as they can.
“You’re thinner too.” Mathura pats her son’s cheek. “And you need a shave.”
He chuckles—one of my favorite sounds. “I’ve missed you too, Mother.” His scarlet uniform jacket hangs open, and a day’s worth of facial hair covers his jawline. I love him this way best, when he is in between a smooth face and a full beard, neither done up nor undone.
Ambassador Chitt barges into the chamber, his chest heaving as though he has run the length of the island. He walks to Mathura, never taking his sight off her. “I was preparing to embark when I heard of your arrival.”
Mathura extends her hand, and he cups it in his. “It’s been a long time,” she says.
They know each other? I watch Deven for an explanation, but he is unreadable.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” Chitt murmurs, and Mathura’s cheeks pinken. I cannot recall if I have ever seen her blush. “Where’s your other son?”
Deven snaps his chin sideways and scans the room. His gaze catches mine momentarily and then barrels onward as though I were a stone he kicked out of his way. “Mother, where’s Brac?”
Mathura tenses in anticipation of his reaction. “I meant to tell you as soon as you walked in. Brac isn’t here.”
“Where is he?” Deven’s low question slices, an order that must be met.
Rohan answers, his voice abysmal. “Brac and Opal were flying near the Tarachand border when their wing flyer was shot down. We tried to circle back, but the demon rajah’s army was upon them. Opal sent a message on the wind for us to go. We lost sight of her, and I haven’t heard anything since.”
Deven freezes. The same dread locks me in place. I fear for Deven and his family, but even more so for Rohan. He and Opal were orphaned after their Galer mother was executed in a bhuta raid. They have only each other. My chest squeezes in empathy. His dependence on his sister reminds me how much I relied on Jaya.
Ashwin pushes up from his desk. “The imperial army is at the border? We were told the demon rajah is still in Iresh.”
“Our informants were misled,” Pons replies, coming into the chamber with Indah. “I flew over Iresh. The city has been abandoned. Only the Tarachandian civilians and a few soldiers remain. The imperial army will cross into the empire soon.”
“How is that possible?” Ashwin sputters out. “Your scouts said—”
“They were listening at a good distance,” Pons explains. “They heard travelers leaving Iresh and assumed they were Janardanians fleeing.”
“Was my brother captured by the demon rajah?” Deven asks, still motionless.
Mathura flourishes her hands in chagrin. “We don’t know.”
The navy is useless now. Their ships cannot reach a landlocked army. “Pons, how long until the army reaches Vanhi?” I ask.
“At the rate they’re marching, six days.”
Ashwin pounds his fists against the desk and hunches over, startling Rohan. “I need to speak with the general and the kindred alone. Everyone else is dismissed.”
Indah and Pons leave without a word. Rohan slogs out after them, his breakfast gone cold.
Deven embraces his mother again. “Brac will be all right.”
Mathura lays her cheek against his shoulder. “I lost him once. I cannot lose him again.”
Brac was presumed dead until a few moons ago, a cover-up for his real mission of joining the rebels. He worked with Hastin to unseat Rajah Tarek but gave up that life when he reunited with his family.
Deven holds Mathura for a long moment. “I’ll find him, Mother. I swear it.”
She releases him, and I fight back the urge to take her place in his arms. I do not need his comfort; I want to comfort him.
Chitt offers Mathura his elbow, and they go. Only Deven, Ashwin, and I remain. Given our quarrel last night, it is a wonder we are all in the same room together without arguing.
Ashwin waits until the door shuts and extends a letter to us. “Late last night, I received a message from the bhuta warlord. Hastin has requested a meeting with the kindred and me.”
Of course Hastin knows where we are. He has informants all over the continent.
Deven demonstrates no inclination to take the letter, so I d
o and read the warlord’s message aloud. “‘I would like to propose an accord. Meet me in Samiya to discuss uniting against the demon rajah.’”
My heart yanks hard in my chest. I have not returned home since Tarek claimed me, but I dream of the mountains often. Jaya is always in my dreams, as is Deven. “Why the temple?”
“Samiya is a neutral site,” replies Ashwin. “Hastin wouldn’t dare attack us on sacred ground.”
“You’ve clearly never met the bhuta warlord,” Deven retorts.
I finger the Tarachand seal, a scorpion, at the top of the letter. Hastin stole this parchment from the rajah’s personal belongings in the palace. I want to disregard his request just to spite him, but I consider it for the ranis and courtesans he has trapped there. They and their children are caught in the middle of this war. An alliance could set them free.
“We should go,” I say.
Deven tugs the letter from my hand. “I cannot believe you’re considering this.”
“We cannot rightly ignore him. The demon rajah is more powerful than we are, and he has our army. The Lestarian Navy is of no use to us now.”
“Not entirely.” Deven tosses aside the letter. Ashwin tries to catch the corner, but it drifts out of reach to the floor. “Other waterways lead to Vanhi. The navy could still fight with us.”
“Hastin’s troops are already in Vanhi,” counters Ashwin. “With the rebel soldiers on our side, we can surround the imperial army when they reach the city.”
“The imperial army may be scattered, but it’s the largest in the world,” Deven explains. “On his way, the demon rajah will pick up deserters. The closer he gets to Vanhi, the more loyalists he will bring into his fold. Army outposts are stationed all along his route. His troops will rally with him, and his ranks will swell.”
“Even more reason why we need the rebels,” I counter. “Hastin may have a vendetta against Tarek, but he’s no fool. He knows he cannot defeat the demon rajah without help.”
“Do you really believe the rebels want to unite?” Deven jabs a finger at me, marking his every point. “Hastin betrayed you. He tried to murder Ashwin by burning down the Brotherhood temples. Hastin will sooner slit the prince’s throat than unite with Tarek’s heir.”
Ashwin swallows loudly, his color paling.
I have not forgotten Hastin’s actions. Nor has my guilt lessened over my former naivety. Hastin used me to further his vendetta against Tarek. The result goes beyond the loss of the Turquoise Palace and his imprisonment of the rajah’s wives and courtesans, many of whom are my friends. Hastin murdered palace guards and soldiers. To escape him, citizens fled the empire to the sultanate. Many fell ill with swamp sickness in the encampments and died. Our downtrodden people were primed for the return of Rajah Tarek. Without their hardships, I doubt they would have so readily accepted his miraculous resurrection. But thanks to Hastin and the landslide of suffering his insurgence caused, our people and army are now following a demon.
No, I have not forgotten Hastin’s part in our misery. But I am not the same woman I was when we first met. Hastin will not deceive me again, nor will he keep what is rightfully mine. He has my father’s journal, my only connection to my parents. The last time I saw the warlord, he dangled the journal before me as a bribe, but I refused to align with him over Ashwin. I have been patient long enough. I want what is mine.
“Kali, this is Hastin,” Deven says. “He’s setting a trap.”
I nearly crack under the weight of his warning, but the gods have preserved my life to stop the fall of the empire. And I will do just that. “We cannot stand against the demon rajah alone. Partnering with Hastin is our best chance of winning.”
“I’ll send him a carrier dove right away.” Ashwin selects a plain piece of parchment to jot his letter upon. “We’ll agree to meet at the Samiya temple, far away from the sea raiders and the imperial army.”
“You’ll also be far away from help when Hastin stabs you in the back,” Deven clips out.
“We have another reason to meet in Samiya.” Ashwin picks up an open book. “I spent the night researching demons in hope of discovering the Voider’s identity. Many demons serve Kur, but I narrowed them down per their abilities and found one that possesses the icy breath of cold-fire.” He shows us the page with a sketch of a demon exhaling a plume of blue flames.
Deven and I shuffle closer to read the caption beneath the drawing, and our sides bump. He steps away and tells Ashwin to summarize.
“The demon’s name is Udug, Kur’s top commander. Udug has three siblings, who are also eternal soldiers of Kur’s: Edimmu, Asag, and Lilu. All four of them possess a version of bhutas’ land, fire, sky, and water abilities.”
Deven’s brows shoot up. “Udug and his siblings have bhuta abilities?”
“A perverted form of them, though their powers are rarely seen in our realm. It’s a long-held belief that demons are more powerful in the dark.”
The Voider—Udug—serves the demon Kur, who holds a grudge that goes back millennia, to the war between the sky-god Anu and his primeval parents. Kur means to avenge the deaths of the primeval gods by wiping out mankind’s strongest connection to Anu—bhutas. The First Bhutas vanquished Udug long ago, and their method was recorded in a sacred book. A book Udug destroyed.
I point at the picture of the Voider. “What does any of this have to do with Samiya?”
“The gods’ temple was built at the top of the Alpana Mountains,” Ashwin answers. Every member of the Parijana faith believes in Ekur, the gods’ mountain house, though no mortal has seen it. “This book says the only way to vanquish a demon is to banish it, just like the First Bhutas did. We have to find the gate to the Void and return Udug through it. The gate is rumored to be hidden near Samiya.”
The sisters spoke often of Ekur, but they neglected to mention that an entry to the Void was close to our temple sanctuary. That is, assuming they are aware it is there.
Deven blusters out a breath. “Kali, he’s only trying to convince you to go with him. The rebels don’t want to make peace with us. Hastin will never side with him.” He motions at Ashwin. “He represents everything the warlord despises.”
Ashwin rubs the back of his neck tiredly. “Your concerns are noted, Deven.”
But his concerns are no excuse for his lack of compassion. Ashwin has scars running down his back from a lashing Tarek gave him. He suffered his father’s wrath as much as anyone. “Ashwin is not his father. You need to stop punishing him for Tarek’s actions.”
“I’m not punishing him. I’m reminding you who he is and how much Hastin hates him.” Deven puts his hands together as if in prayer, begging me to listen. “This will end badly. Please. Go with the navy or stay here. I’ll rejoin you after I find Brac.”
“Come to Samiya with me.” My selfish request is small of me. But I do not care.
Deven stares back, incredulous. The events of last night are too fresh in his mind. The back of my throat aches for his forgiveness. “Kali, I have to find Brac.”
“You said yourself he’ll be fine. He’s too clever to be captured. Come with us.”
“You know I cannot.”
I know Deven will risk his life to save his brother’s, and I cannot bear to lose him. I try one last entreaty. “I cannot imagine returning to Samiya without you.”
Deven’s eyes go wide, and understanding passes between us. Returning to the Alpanas together is our dream.
Ashwin drops the book on the table with a bang. “I’ll go to Samiya alone, then.”
“Wait.” I grasp at him, desperate for all of us to come to an accord. “Please, don’t go.”
“Yes, you stay,” Deven growls. “I was just leaving.”
I let go of Ashwin and reach for Deven. “I didn’t mean—” Deven prowls out and slams the door. I think to follow him, but the prince encloses my stiff frame in an embrace.
“Let him go. You won’t change his mind.”
I try not to melt under Ashwin’s touch, bu
t his body heat soaks into me, and the sudden change is irresistible. “Maybe we should listen to him.”
“Kalinda, we’re acting in the empire’s best interest. Together with the rebels, we will stop Udug.”
For the first time, Ashwin sounds certain that we can succeed. I drive away my guilt at needing—and appreciating—his touch and remain near him.
We will go to Samiya without Deven, but his refusal to support us leaves a sourness in my mouth. He of all people should appreciate why we need the rebels’ help. With Udug closer to Vanhi than we believed, trusting the warlord is a risk we must take.
6
DEVEN
I lean against the wall outside the prince’s door, my fists quaking. Kali took Ashwin’s side. They should be rerouting the navy to Vanhi, yet all they can think about is the warlord.
Shortsighted fools. The demon rajah’s head start could mean the end of the war. I push away from the wall and march down the corridor.
Turn back and tell her you love her. Don’t part in anger.
I nearly bow to my apprehension but stay on course. Last night, I slept on a bench in the garden instead of returning to Kali’s chamber. I resolved to leave her be, and I will, because the only other option is to compel her to choose between the prince and me right now. And that would make me an even bigger fool than they are, for I am not merely competing against a prince. I am up against her throne. She is long past needing me as her guard. Whatever happens on that mountaintop, Kali can defend herself. I am more concerned about them wasting time.
But time is all I can give her. Time to consider her future. Time to remember she never asked to become a rani. Time to realize she can have a peaceful life with me.
Unless I am utterly mistaken, and Kali has chosen her path. She may, in fact, never relinquish her throne. She may be falling in love with Ashwin, and she is sparing me heartache by not saying so . . .
I increase my pace, no longer departing in anger but with another emotion that I do not allow myself to inspect too closely before I shove it down and lock it away.
Yatin and Natesa dine on breakfast in Kali’s chamber. Natesa leaps out of the way when I storm in, the swinging door knocking against her chair. Rohan nibbles on pieces of mango. He is just fourteen, two years younger than his sister Opal. Anu, let our siblings be safe.
The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen Series Book 3) Page 8
